Run: 2026-10-07-01M4ATJ75VHRADTMM1XB4NK0QV

The dim glow of a flickering streetlamp cast long shadows across the alley where Molly and Bill crouched behind a stack of discarded party decorations. The scent of stale cake and balloon rubber lingered in the air, a reminder of the chaos they were about to unleash. Molly adjusted her black ski mask, the sequins she’d glued on for "flair" catching the light. "You sure this is the right house?" she whispered, eyeing the pastel streamers fluttering from the porch. Bill squinted at the hand-drawn sign taped to the mailbox. "Says ‘Liam’s 7th Birthday Extravaganza.’ That’s our guy." Molly sighed. "Seven? That’s practically a toddler. Do you think they’ll even have good loot?" Bill shrugged. "Kids these days get iPads for their first steps. We’re talking a goldmine of LEGO sets and Nerf guns." Molly nodded, though her gaze lingered on the front door, where a cluster of parents chatted over punch. "Alright, but we stick to the plan. In through the back, grab the presents, out before the piñata." Bill grinned. "And if we get caught?" "We pretend we’re the entertainment. You’re a clown, I’m a magician." "You hate clowns." "And you can’t do magic." A burst of laughter erupted from the house as a child shrieked with delight. Molly took a deep breath. "Showtime." They crept along the fence, dodging a suspiciously placed garden gnome that Bill swore was watching them. The back door was ajar, the sound of "Baby Shark" blaring from inside. Molly winced. "I’d rather take a bullet." Bill pushed the door open just enough to slip through. The living room was a riot of color—balloons, wrapping paper, and a towering pile of gifts under a banner that read "Happy Birthday, Liam!" Molly’s eyes widened. "Jackpot." Bill moved toward the presents, but Molly grabbed his arm. "Wait. The parents are right there." Bill scanned the room. The adults were distracted, snapping photos of kids smashing cake into their faces. "Now’s our chance." Molly hesitated. "What if one of them sees us?" Bill grabbed a party hat from a nearby table and plopped it on his head. "Then we’re just really into the theme." Molly groaned but followed his lead, snatching a noisemaker and blowing it with exaggerated enthusiasm. The parents barely glanced their way. As they stuffed gifts into their sacks, Molly muttered, "This is the easiest heist we’ve ever pulled." Bill grinned. "Told you kids were soft targets." A sudden silence fell over the room. Molly froze. The music had stopped. The parents were staring. A small voice piped up. "Who are you?" Molly and Bill turned to see Liam, the birthday boy, clutching a half-eaten cupcake, his eyes wide with curiosity. Bill cleared his throat. "Uh. Surprise entertainers?" Liam’s face lit up. "Cool! Can you do a magic trick?" Molly shot Bill a panicked look. He swallowed hard. "Sure, kid. Watch this." He pulled a quarter from behind Liam’s ear. The room erupted in applause. Molly exhaled. Maybe this heist wasn’t so bad after all.